


Bloodline.

by lcvelylupin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Crimes & Criminals, Disabled Characters, Disabled Remus Lupin, F/F, F/M, Gangs, M/M, Spiritual, Yoga
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-24 06:31:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13207968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lcvelylupin/pseuds/lcvelylupin
Summary: Sirius is a yoga instructor determined to save his brother Regulus from a life of crime in the “family business” better known the Death Eaters gang.  Remus is a reluctant yoga goer, who somehow gets swept up in all this madness and comes up with a plan to save Regulus once and for all.





	1. - 1 -

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at writing a dark story. Here we go. 
> 
> Both Remus and Tonks have different types of cerebral palsy; As a person with CP myself, I'm writing their disabilities purely from my experience. 
> 
> Title is still up in the air at the moment. Leave feedback if you feel so inclined :)

Eleven imaginary eyes were on him. Remus forced himself to focus on the words coming out of the yoga instructor’s mouth - blocked out his periphery so that he couldn’t focus on James or Dorcas next to him, doing the pose exactly right: the insecurity still poured in. 

His body was shaking and his balance was pathetic. His body kept betraying him; he couldn’t support himself. He didn’t know why he let James talk him into this.

“You heard what the doctor said,” James flipped the crepe on the skillet, forever the mom friend.  
“You’re eighteen, Remus. You’re not growing anymore, but if you don’t keep stretching, your muscles will just lock up.”

“You’re not my mother,” Remus snapped. “I’m not doing it. You know how I feel about this.”

“Yeah, I do. I’ve heard it all before: you’re insecure that you’re not going to be able to do the poses perfectly right, like everyone else. But this isn’t about everyone else. It’s about doing this for yourself. Please, just try it.”

And Remus just ate his crepe angrily, because James was right. He was usually right about things that mattered. 

So here he was, failing at pose after pose. His face kept growing red. He even wanted to cry at certain points; because no matter how hard he tried, he just kept falling awkwardly, while others kept going, gaining their balance. 

Warm hands corrected his posture. 

At least the instructor was attractive - his name was unusual...Sirius. Sirius was attractive. And the more he fell, the more Sirius felt the need to help him. He would’ve enjoyed that fact if Remus wasn’t so embarrassed. And Sirius wasn’t so nice, offering gentle alternatives. 

James was right. He was eighteen. He shouldn’t feel this insecure about this. He wasn’t in year five anymore, pulling down the cuffs of his trousers to hide his leg braces. 

“Okay everyone, one last child’s pose,” Sirius said softly, and everyone followed. 

Yoga was supposed to turn his mind off, or at least lower the volume. Instead he was left with a headache and shaky legs. 

“Great work everybody! See you next week.” Sirius fixed his hair back into a bun. As Remus and James rolled their mats, Sirius came over to them. 

“Hey James, good to see you, man.” he greeted him happily, with a genuine smile and a hug. 

“Likewise! Amazing session as always, mate.”

Remus tried to look extremely occupied with putting on his shoes. James had gone off to put the yoga blocks and straps away. His brilliant plan failed miserably. 

“James always comes on his own,” Sirius said. “I’ve never seen you here before.”

“Uh, I’m his roommate,” Remus tied his laces once and for all and stood up. “Remus.”

Sirius did that thing where his eyes crinkled up at the sides, and with the light coming from the windows, his eyes looked almost clear. 

“Remus,” There was something in the way he said his name that made Remus want to shiver, but he stopped himself. Like it was the best thing he’d heard all day. “It’s nice to meet you. You did really well today.”

Remus pulled his curls back self consciously. “Thanks…”

And Sirius just smiled wider. It almost looked like it hurt. 

The echoes of James footsteps made Sirius jump. Embarrassed, he laughed at himself. “You didn’t have to do that. Thanks.”

James shook his head. “It’s really no problem.” he pointed his finger to the exit. “You ready to go, Remus?”

Remus rejoiced at not having to be under Sirius’ eyes. Because it wasn’t like looking at some stranger. Sirius had looked at him as if anything he could say was worth listening to. He looked at him like he mattered. 

He really wasn’t used to that. 

James was smiling when they got in his car.  
___

“Isn’t it...counterproductive, to eat burgers and fries after yoga?”

James laughed, dipping one into mayo. “It’s a reward,” he popped it into his mouth. “You completed your first yoga session alive, and I managed to get you to go.”

Remus sighed and sipped his milkshake. “Fair enough.”

“So, what did you think?”  
“My brain felt like a deadweight...but my body feels good. Looser.” 

James smiled, genuinely. Dimples and everything. “I’m glad Remus. Clearing your mind takes time, but you have to keep coming.” he grabs his hand. “Please.”

Remus squeezed back. “Okay, okay. You don’t have to be so dramatic about it.”

“Says the guy who makes a show out of going to one yoga session,” James laughed. “You were this close,” he pinches his fingers together, “-to turning on the waterworks.”

So, Remus kept going. He kept falling and shaking. But this time, there was a co instructor at the class, who introduced herself as Lily. Remus was surprised James didn’t slip on his own drool. 

Lily was way more intense than Sirius was. Her poses were harder and more difficult, whereas Sirius was more focused on breathing and going with the flow. Remus had never sweated this much in his entire life. He felt defeated every time he had to sit a pose out, but Sirius tried his best to give him other poses to do, whispering softly in his ear and gently guiding his body. 

Sirius’ hands were always warm and steady. They seemed to know the human body better than his eyes, at times. Remus was jealous; his own hands were cold, lanky and frantic. They never knew what to do or where to go. They were most at home in Remus’ lap, awkwardly tangled. 

Sirius and Lily, despite their different teaching methods, worked well together. They bickered and joked to lighten the mood, but they listened to each other and found a balance between their poses. 

After the class was over, James went and helped Lily clean up. Remus got a kick out of watching him flirt, but was even more entertained by how utterly uninterested Lily seemed to be. 

“Hey,” Sirius came to talk to him again. God, didn’t he have better things to do? Remus wasn’t sure he could handle looking him in the eye again. 

“Hey,” Remus replied, lamely. 

“It’s nice to see you again,” 

“Yeah...you-you too.” Remus wanted to punch himself in the face. God, he was awkward. Sirius probably thought he was a total dork. “Though I don’t know if you’ll see me again after this. Lily’s class was pretty brutal.”

“Yeah,” Sirius laughed. “I barely survive them myself.” 

As Remus turned to leave, Sirius said, “I guess I’ll have to figure out ways to keep you coming round.”

___

“You’re always talking to him after class,” The yoga studio was empty by now. “You always rush to help him, just so that you have an excuse to be close-”

“Lily, for the last time - I’m not into him, okay?” Goddamn James for always cleaning up. He had no distractions. “He’s interesting. He’s the first person I’ve met that doesn’t like to talk about himself.”

“You know what people do when they want to get to know each other, right?” 

“You know that I can’t,”

“He leaves here blushing like a sunset,” Lily looked at him. “Every single time. He’s into you.” 

Sirius didn’t answer. 

“Listen, Sirius. You can’t get hung up on…” saying his name would only hurt him. “Him. Okay? You’ll get him. But one of these days, you’re going to have to come first. I don’t have time to worry about you like this.”

They walked down to the parking lot together, going their separate ways. Before Lily stepped into her car, she said one last thing. “If you won’t do this for yourself, do it for me, Sirius.”  
___

Okay. So maybe he liked the yoga instructor. Maybe a little. But pining, making sappy playlists in the early hours of the morning, someone slipping up about his crush, the heartbreak - it was all so exhausting. He didn’t have time for it. 

He needed to focus on his studies. He had wanted to become a teacher since he was twelve, and he didn’t want to disappoint his mum; she had been so happy when she learned he wanted to follow in her footsteps. 

Besides, he trusted his brain more than his heart, anyway. It always made terrible decisions. The only relationship he didn’t regret was when he dated Tonks, a free spirited girl he met at rehab after a surgery. he should probably call her. She was always good in a crisis. He couldn’t talk to James about it, because he was the absolute worst at being discreet. He was already friends with Sirius - he’d even gone out for a drink with him tonight-so that was a definite no. 

Remus knew that his brain only really got in the way of his heart. The most frustrating thing was, he had accepted and learned to love himself - but he just would not let others love him. He couldn’t, because it had taken him years to build up that love; it would only take one kiss to fuck it all up. And Remus wasn’t one to take chances. 

He stared blankly at his half finished essay. So much for focusing on his studies. 

Defeated, he dialed Tonks’ number. 

“Yellow.”

“Who even says ‘yellow’ anymore? Besides my granddad.”

“Ah, hello, Remington,” 

He smiled.

“Hello, Tilly,”

“What has caused you to call me on this fine evening?” he could hear her stereo in the background. 

Remus twirled the phone cord around his finger. “I’m in a bit of a...tizzy, at the moment.”

“Who is this...tizzy, you speak of?” she was probably twirling a purple strand of hair around her finger right now; it seemed she dyed it every other week. 

“He’s...my yoga instructor?”

He heard laughter on the other line. He couldn’t help but giggle himself. “No, I’m serious.”

“I’ve...no, it’s...it’s fine, I’m just trying to picture your.lanky arse legs trying to get into the poses...” she had a cute laugh. Infectious, like a child’s. “I’ve clearly underestimated James.”

“Are you going to help or not?”

There was a brief burst of static; she must’ve set her crutches down. That meant business. 

“I..like him. A lot. But it’s ridiculous, because I only talk to him for like, two minutes after our sessions. He seems so...kind, and open. Too open. He’s like a fucking,” he raked a hand through his hair, “-black hole. Urging me to fall as if nothing has consequences. He’s active, he hikes and jogs and goes places...we’re the opposite.”

Pause. “Anything else?”

“He has a motorcycle. I’ll never get on that thing.”

“Remmy dear...all of those are good things,” she sighed. “You just have a tendency to make things feel like they’re worse than they are. And as much as you huff and puff about it always being unrequited, you love it, because you’re still in control,”

Remus closed his eyes. 

“You decide that they’re not into you or that it’ll never happen because of your disability, et cetera...you decide to let that destroy you, because it’s easier. You want things to be your brand of perfect. When your vulnerability falls into someone else’s hands, you flee.” 

He focused on his breathing, growing deeper by the word.

“So, just this once, say ‘fuck it,’ and see where it takes you.”

He breathed out. 

___

Everything was a blur. The music felt distant and strangely thick. James’ figure was barely solid in front of him. His voice was only just discernible; it felt as if he were drowning, nearly to the surface, but not quite. But Sirius knew the patterns: He’d smile, he’d look them through half lidded eyes, he’d laugh, he’d throw his head back. And, for the most part, he’d get them convinced; that in this precise moment, there is nothing wrong, that there is nothing else besides the joke they’d just told. 

Sirius would have to watch his drinks. He was going to teeter totter on the brink of telling James his whole life story, and well, they were at a good place in the friendship right now: everything but family matters was on the table. Everything but Remus was on the table. He didn’t want to think about that. 

He pondered over what Lily said, and he had come oh-so-close to listening to her. 

But he couldn’t get distracted like this. He couldn’t pretend like...like he could just push his brother aside, for something that wouldn’t last. 

Remus didn’t deserve that, either. He deserves someone who made room for him. Someone who feel like they were constantly running out of time. Someone that he didn’t have to constantly catch up to. 

He had to get his brother out of that bloody house. Last time he came round to the manor, Sirius couldn’t tell him apart from their father. He was already halfway dead, but in that house, being dead was the only way to stay alive. If he was dead, nothing they ever said could get in. 

He would never forgive himself for leaving him there. Abandoning him there, for this stupid, spiritual delusion. 

James’ hand was at his shoulder. “Are you alright?”

Sirius took a long sip of his beer. “Almost,” he swallowed. “Almost.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a much shorter part 2. Hope you enjoy it all the same.

The news blared on their shitty telly. 

“Remus, we’re gonna be late!”

“Yeah? And who’s fault is that?” he shouted back through a mouthful of buttered toast. “It was your turn to do the bloody wash last week!”

His aging, ratty PE trousers were still dirty. All that was left was a pair of running shorts he never wore; he had a thing about wearing shorts in public. His surgery scars were still annoyingly pink, obvious and ugly. Usually he wouldn’t give a damn, but…

“Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it,” Remus mumbled under his breath, putting the shorts on. 

“...a body was found washed up on the river this morning. Police suspect the faded marking on the victim’s forearm to be linked to the Death Eaters gang, but no concrete evidence can be provided at this time,” a reporter went on, catching Remus’ attention. “We advise our viewers to please be safe on the streets at night and to keep all doors and windows locked. This matter is being handled by the most prestigious officers in England…” 

The television clicked off. James took a deep breath, the remote limp in his hand. 

“Let’s go,”

Remus only nodded. 

Remus didn’t have to worry about the shorts; Sirius wasn’t there. It was like a piece of the room was missing. Everything felt off without him there. 

“It’ll just be me today, unfortunately,” Lily joked, but her eyes were all wrong. And instead of looking them all in the eye (Looking at Lily felt like looking at an oncoming train; Remus’ heart raced every time they had a conversation) she paced around, playing with the hem of her shirt.  
“Sirius is a bit under the weather today.”

They took it surprisingly easy that day, going slow and to the rhythm of their individual breathing. Every time Remus looked up, she seemed to be somewhere else. Every time she came to help him, she gave him the same lopsided smile. 

After class, he came up to her. God, he hated prying, but his brain wouldn’t stop nagging. “Is Sirius okay?”

Lily’s green eyes snapped up to meet his. “Hm? Oh, it’s probably just a cold,” but Remus knew it wasn’t just a cold. 

“Tell him to get well soon, on my part.” He couldn’t trust people’s words, but luckily for him, bodies gave it all away. 

“I could give you his number though, if you don’t believe me,” she played it off like a joke. It numbed the ache, whatever it was. “Tell him yourself.”

Sirens were going off in his head. Don’t do it. Think. Is it really worth it? You’ll only end up getting hurt. You’ll thank yourself later…

He waved a casual hand in the air. “Um. Yeah, okay, sure.”

This time she smiled, and it was real. Almost halfway there. “Let me grab my notebook,” For a moment, he feared she saw right through him. His face was already hot. 

She scribbled the number down and ripped the page out, folding it up and handing it to him. 

“Right. Thanks,” he had to look down. Just now, her eyes looked like they knew something he didn’t, and it made his stomach squirm. 

__

Lily tapped her fingers on her steering wheel; traffic was a bitch tonight. 

She knew Sirius would hate her for it, but it was clear he didn’t have the guts to ask. He needed someone to help him carry the weight of it all. He couldn’t expect to be alone the rest of his life, as much as he wanted to. Of course it would keep everyone safe, but it meant sacrificing his own happiness.

He sacrificed his happiness because he didn’t think he deserved it. 

His parents were a part of the Death Eaters gang, and fully intended his brother Regulus to follow in their footsteps. His family had inflicted so much pain upon others that Sirius took it out on himself. 

It wasn’t healthy. Lily hoped Remus had already gotten in touch. 

Meanwhile, Sirius paced his apartment; It wasn’t him.

It wasn’t him, it wasn’t Regulus in that bloody river. He hasn’t received The Mark yet.  
Papers littered his living room table, showing all of the different sectors of the family mansion. A web of complex passages and rooms. Since getting into some rough business a few years back, his parents had a few police on the payroll provide protection for the house. 

It was a monster of a house. A few police was an understatement. In fact, just to spite him with his dirty money, his father had cameras installed all around. Cameras, as if he were in some spy film! 

He was nothing but a stranger to his parents, an intruder; no longer a son. 

He wished he could just walk into the damn house. He wished he didn’t have to question whether his brother was alive. He had to do something before the last dregs of his hope circled the drain. 

“Ugh,” he groaned, running a hand through his wild, wavy hair. He breathed in and out slowly, like he’d learned to do, deep into the stomach and back. 

His phone rang. He really wasn’t in the mood for Lily’s soft, concerned tone and certainly not in the mood for a damn lecture from Marlene about how getting out of the house would clear his head. 

But he answered anyway, because he needed them. Even if he wouldn’t admit it. They were all he had. 

“I’m not in the mood for another reprimand, Meadowes!”

“Uh, Actually, it’s Remus...I...I just wanted to know if you were okay. Lily said you were,” he sighed. “Ill.” 

His voice jumpstarted Sirius’ heart. He brought the receiver down to his chest. “Fuckin’ Lily.”

___

 

Peter’s hands shook in front of the doorknob. His silhouette was already visible from the other side. He had no choice but to go in. 

Smoke emitted from the black chair in the room. 

God, he fucked up. Peter swallowed. 

The chair turned: Tom Riddle stared back at him with furious eyes, alight like fireballs in their sockets. His cigarette glowed orange and spit ash onto the immaculate desk. The only thing on it was a sleek, silver pistol. 

He proceeded to crush it violently into an ashtray. “Pettigrew, you absolute idiot!” 

The boy trembled before him like a frightened mouse. “This is the third time you’ve managed to kill off one of my men. Do you have a bloody quota?!” 

Tom walked agonizingly slow, letting his expensive shoes click on the dark wood floor, until he stood directly before Peter. His heart was beating out of his chest and his breathing was shaky. 

Tom smiled, just barely. “Do you know what this means?” his knuckles turned white. “The coppers are watching our every fucking move! We have a very important mission that needs to be carried out next week, we can’t afford this. Once again, you have disappointed me!” 

This was all second nature to Riddle, as easy as taking a breath. As easy as ending a life. Gang leaders didn’t have time to waste. He didn’t have to think about putting the pistol at clumsy little Peter Pettigrew’s chin. 

The word ‘please’ was stuck in Peter’s throat. He didn’t dare beg. 

“You must take me for a fool,” he whispered. “Giving you chance after chance...now I’m down a few men and can’t get rid of you.”

He cocked the gun, and Peter’s weak heart almost stopped. 

“There’s only one bullet in this gun,” And Tom’s voice is pure heaven, dulcet and smooth. The one he used to talk people into doing his business. “Your last chance.” 

He removed the gun from Peter’s chin. 

“I’m done handing jobs out to you. Now, you wait. You’ll do the paperwork with the girls, with them on your case, there’s no way for you to fuck up. You’ll do the secretarial work until I find something to make you bloody useful.”

“Yes, sir.”

Tom set the bullet down on the desk. In the light, Peter could see his name etched subtly on the side. Just visible enough for him to see before he turned around and shut the door behind him.


End file.
